


Tumblr Writing Prompts for my Historical OCs

by OCforEverything



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone is a sad gay, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, Unrequited Crush, sad gay gals, sad gay guys, sad gay people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29399715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OCforEverything/pseuds/OCforEverything
Summary: I decided to do some tumblr prompts I found! I will be posting them both here and on Wattpad. No smut :( but maybe at the end if this gets1. Finished and2. Attention;)I have the warning ‘Major Character Death’ cuz uhm James Dies :P that’s kinda it tho? That’s all for death no one else dies cuz we need fluff in this sad, sad world
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Intro

I'm doing prompts with my historical OCs! I don't do much of this but I thought I'd give it a shot :P

I can't list the prompts right now because fucking Wattpad, but you'll just have to see em as they come!

No smut, sorry but you can check my Ao3 bookmarks, same username as here 🙃I wish but unfortunately Wattpad will delete my writing and I learned that the hard way 😭

I have unmedicated ADHD, so I probably won't update that often but I'll try to as much as possible! There is one already finished one,just want to release two together to start this off, so it'll be a bit of a wait.

i will be posting these both here and Wattpad so if you like that format better for some reason, ya welcome

Thanks for stopping by!

-Rory


	2. Frances/Henry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The image above is just some really bad old test art I made to sort of test what I could do, and draw my boys. I don't have any recent art of them, but hopefully you get the idea :)  
> Content Warning: Crying, Past Death, PTSD/Trauma  
> Year: 1922  
> "Just close your eyes. I'll be here when you open them again."

—————

It had been two years after the war, one year after the Spanish Flu. The death toll was high, and Frances and Henry felt as though they would never recover. Despite living four years in trenches, barely surviving, replacing food with ash and coal tar, they come back and when a soldier can't forget long enough for the world to say he's strong, he is called weak. Henry has lost something bad enough in the war he couldn't even tell Frances, and his mom, brother, and best friend died from the flu. Frances lost two close friends, and never knew anyone else longer than a month. His father was killed in the pandemic. And after all of this pain, they were healing.

It was slow, but they were healing.

They were able to find a home in a small neighborhood that kept to themselves. If anyone heard or saw anything, they turned the other cheek. After seeing the ruins of France, Frances came to Britain with Henry, and they shared an apartment together.

Henry heard the door creak open, and his heart jumped. He looked up to make sure it was Frances, before running up and jumping up onto him with no warning besides hi loud exclamation of "You're Back!"

Frances looked up in enough time to catch him, almost falling backward with his weight. "Slow down, I just got here." He lowered his voice. "We can't be too careful." Henry frowned, but didn't let go.

Every time Frances left the house, he feared he wouldn't return, that he would be killed in some shape or form. During the war he thought he was dead for three years, and now he can't even handle him being dead for several hours. Just knowing that it could happen anytime and he had to go on with his life was a horrifying thought. He felt as if Frances met his end, the world should too, but the first time Henry had thought he was gone, the war kept going. Everyone kept living. It felt wrong.

"Henry, can you get off? I'd like to relax after work." Henry had gotten off of work earlier. He unwrapped his feet and landed with a thump in front of his boyfriend. Frances ran a hand through Henry's blonde hair and kissed his forehead. "How was your day?" He asked in his thick French accent, heading to the kitchen.

—————

It was after dinner, and time for bed. They had two bedrooms set up just in case, but they usually just shared one. Henry climbed into bed after Frances, kissing his forehead and blowing out the candle. "Good night, darling."

Frances grinned and wrapped his arms around Henry. "Good night."

Hours passed and Frances was shaken awake by Henry, tears running down both of their faces. Frances was woken up in the middle of a horrible nightmare, that was fading from his mind quicker than it had come. But he shove it aside; it didn't matter until Henry was alright. "What's wrong dear?" Frances asked sleepily, wiping his arm across his face and bringing it around to caress Henry's face, but Henry grabbed it in his shaking hands.

"Frances, are you real?" He sobbed as quietly as he could, clutching onto his hands harder, blue eyes staring into almost gray ones.

"Henry what-"

"Is this fake." He said it more as a statement than a question, bowing his head down and sniffing. "Promise me I'm not going to wake up in a trench next to another dead soldier." He choked out.

"Henry, no, I'm here, I promise."

"Prove it." He looked at Frances and moved to grab his face, but Frances grabbed his hands before he could. "Henry, I'm here. I'm real. How else can I prove it to you?" He let go of Henry's wrists and moved to prop himself up on his shoulders, then sitting up completely. He brushed a strand of Henry's blond hair out of his face and gently rested his hand back on Henry's shoulder.

Henry sighed and wiped away his tears, moving to hug Frances. "I'm so scared that- that I'll wake up and y-you'll be dead, you'll be dead all over again, and I might as well be, and everyone is dying, and I can't- I can't do that again." Henry cried. "I miss my brother, a-and M-Max, and James and everyone..."

Who the hell is James? Frances wondered, but decided to leave it be. He hadn't told Henry about Gabriel or Amou yet, he wasn't ready. He was sure he was a friend from the trenches. He pressed a kiss to Henry"s forehead. "Just close your eyes. I'll be here when you open them again."

Henry pulled back and looked at him. "You promise?"

Frances smiled softly, and laid back down next to his boyfriend, grabbing his hand and rubbing the back with his thumb, gently. "I promise."


	3. Abigail/Mary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This prompt might be shorter cuz I don't know what to write, but we'll see. This one will be fluffier and takes place during the American Revolution.  
> Year: 1778  
> "Sure, you can use me as a pillow."

—————

"Hey, Abby?"

"Yes dear?"

"Can water burn?"

Mary heard shuffling and banging as Abby almost knocked things over trying to get into the kitchen. "Can it what?!?!" Mary flipped a page in the book she was reading. "Can it-"

"No, I know what you.... if it gets too hot it'll just evaporate into nothing eventually, but you can't burn- what are you even doing in there? Did you even put the food in it yet? It's been an hour!" She finally walked in and blew a loose strand of hair out of her face. She had her hair down in a loose ponytail, and had been working on the garden outside as it was a nice spring day, but after Mary seemed to forget how to cook (again) she had to leave that chore to babysit her wife.

She and Mary had married Philip and Sam for a cover for who they were really dating. Mary and Abigail were dating each other, and Philip and Sam were as well. Luckily, they were off to fight a war together, so they had the house to themselves most of the time. Unluckily, that meant less people to do more chores, and make money.

"Good heavens, Mary, a quarter of the water is already evaporated! I'm surprised it sin't more! Can you just.... could you go out and finish pulling up the weeds, dear?" Abby knew Mary wasn't good at a lot of things, or getting them done. It frustrated Mary more than it did her, and Mary couldn't even hear a door slam without breaking down. She had had a bad past and didn't think like other people, but whenever she wasn't able to continue a task, usually they could get things done at a fairly functional pace if they switched.

Mary put the book down, and stood up. "Sorry... I'll go do that." She leaned down to kiss Abigail on the lips, ruffled her brown hair, and headed out the door.

Abigail sighed and turned to finish the food.

————— (in other words I dunno how to write a dinner scene in the 1700s pardonne-moi 😭)

Mary and Abby had just finished washing the dishes, and sat down on the couch. Abby sat back heavily, and Mary moved down more gently, and leaned over her lap to reach the book she was reading.

"What are you reading?" Abby asked, looking over her dirty blonde hair as she leaned across.

"The Sleep Walker. It's by Elizabeth Craven."

"Sounds boring."

"Maybe, but I want to read it anyway."

Mary leaned onto Abigail, slowly flipping pages as she read them, while Abby skimmed them over her shoulder. Mary shifted constantly, unable to sit still, until she finally turned to her side and brought her head down into Abigail's lap. She tore her eyes away from the book, and looked up at Abby with bright blue eyes. "Miss Abigail Johnson, May I use you as a pillow?"

Abby huffed at her and ran a hand through Mary's hair. "I don't see why not." She replied in a stubborn voice, but her eyes twinkled with amusement. Mary smirked and looked back at her book, whispering "I love you."

"I love you too." Abby whispered back.


End file.
